


The Sweetest Thing

by Feanoriel



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Feanor and Nerdanel are two adorable nerds in love, FeanorianWeek, I let the angst for another day, Introspection, Written for FeanorianWeek, Young Love, fluff (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 16:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10469424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feanoriel/pseuds/Feanoriel
Summary: Some days before her marriage with Fëanor, Nerdanel thought about her choice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A short - for my standard- fic written for the **FeanorianWeek** on Tumblr. I hope that you could enjoy this, this is the first time that I write a fanfiction in English (that it's not my mother tongue, so I'll excuse every mistakes that I could made). Maybe it's not a so-original-fanfic, I simply wanted to make a little experiment for the **FeanorianWeek**.
> 
> Happy reading :)

_(Oh, the sweetest thing)_  
Eternal fire, she turned me to straw  
(Oh, the sweetest thing)  
I know I got black eyes  
But they burn so brightly for her  
I guess it’s a blind kind of love  
(U2- The Sweetest Thing)

 

Nerdanel felt the heat of the sun on her skin, sweet as a caress. Everything was beautiful, all around her: the birds, that sang their soft tunes, the colors of the flowers, the intense green of the trees. Nerdanel suspired gladly. 

She had taken a brief moment for herself, in which she could rest, away from the chaos that had captured her house in those days. In a week, the day of her marriage with Fëanáro would come, and her father, her mother, her aunts and uncles, and also her little sisters, so curious of seeing her older sister married to the firstborn of the High King, were all in agitation for preparing the great day, as they called it.  
She is gladly to see all those things, and so glad of being married to Fëanáro: not because he is a prince, and an extremely beautiful young man -maybe the most beautiful man that she had even see- but also because he was himself, the genial and passionate young man that understood her more than everybody else. Nerdanel loved the passion that he putted in everything he did, whether creating a new jewel, or touching her with his strong, callous fingers … -she shivered at that memory. They weren’t so far married, but Fëanáro had yet touched her as a husband touched his wife. This surely didn’t displeasure to Nerdanel: Fëanáro is young, full of life, the fire of the passion burned into him, and she desired him even before discovering that she was in love with him.

And in a brief time they would be married. They finally would be coming to live in that beautiful stone-made house that the carpenters of Finwë had built for them, following the indications that they had given to the workers. In that house, there would be a garden: full of trees and of flowers, in which their children would be playing. 

Nerdanel felt the need to have a little moment for resting, before that all of this began. She wanted herself prepared to that moment. She was so glad at the idea of her and Fëanáro living together in the same house, alone with themselves -for the moment, until their children came-, sharing the same bed, the same spaces. She would be in her atelier, and Fëanáro in their forge, and they could create their works side by side, she her sculptures, he his shining jewels, and they could invent new things, all those inventions that they had spoken once … 

But now she felt the need of remaining alone, and facing her own insecurities.  
She was always so wise, and so rational. For her, it seems always impossible the idea that she could be lead by her feelings, that she could act in an irrational way. She always knew what is the wisest decision to take in her life, and she always followed that way of thinking. She was always so responsible and level-headed, that her parents trusted blindly her. She never did something of irresponsible, or simply irrational. She always acted so, but she didn’t felt wise at all. Wise is a difficult concept, she thought, who could say with absolutely certainty what is _really_ wise, and what isn’t? She is always so rational, so responsible, so talented for doing always the thing that seems the wisest -or perhaps, the thing that most of people thought as the wisest?-, but inside her, she was so full of doubts, of indecision, of fear of doing the wrong choice. She lived a solitary existence, in a so numerous family, she is totally took in her own creations for paying attention to anything else. 

Until Fëanáro came. 

It seems strange she discovered that she had so much in common with a person that acted in a totally different manner from her. Above all, he was passionate, and he is easily leaded by his own great passion. Her mind returned at the moment when Fëanáro told her that he was gone away by his own house, because he felt now like a stranger in the new family that Finwë had created. She always thought that she could never act so: probably, in his place she would have presumably tempted to find a diplomatic way of living with that new family, or searching to understand her step-mother. But at the same time, she couldn’t biased Fëanáro for running away from a family that he couldn’t recognize anymore as his own. He, like her, was too took in his inventions and discoveries, in the long journeys that he made through the unexplored lands of Aman, for paying attention of everything else. Exactly like her. 

So, everything changed. Nerdanel taught him of being more diplomatic, more patient, even convinced him to return by his father and to speak to him directly, not only through embarassed letters in which Fëanáro struggled to find the right words for expressing what he felt. Finwë was so glad when Fëanáro returned to speak with him.

And she … 

She had to admit of herself that Fëanáro taught her of being less worried about what people said about her, of not caring at all about the opinions of the others. And for the first time, she really knew what means being lead by the passion. The glory of the spirit of Fëanáro seemed almost capable of burning her, but it would be a fire in which Nerdanel would be glad of being burned. In her always so rational life, it never was place for the passion. With Fëanáro, she finally discovered what this word means. 

When he asked her of getting married, she laughed, and kissed him, and said yes without hesitation.

It could be seems strange, this decision. They are too young for being married, he haven’t yet fifty years, she wasn’t so much older than him. Surely, it isn’t the wisest decision at all. The wisest decision would be of waiting some dozens of years, and getting married when they had finally the right age. 

But in that moment, she didn’t want to feel wise. She wanted Fëanáro, everything of him, his genius, his passionate mind, his beautiful body, everything that made him so perfect for her, the love of her life. She wanted his flame consuming her, his touch made almost rough by the passion over the soft skin of her breasts, his vigorous, handsome body against her own, his fire deep inside her … Nerdanel shivered.  
In that moment that she agreed to marry Fëanáro, she reflected, she had decided that, for once, she could care nothing about wisdom. She could be irrational, for once, she could do what she wanted without thinking of the consequences. She was going to marry Fëanáro, and to become the Princess of the Noldor: the eyes of all the people of Tirion were going to be over her, and make attention of every move that she made, but she now had decided that she didn’t care at all about what the people thought. She wanted only Fëanáro, only to live with him in that beautiful house that they had projected together, only to feel him sleeping with her in their bed, only to see his beautiful eyes in the children that they one day came … This is sufficient for her. 

 

-How are you, my dear? - that voice - the voice of the man that she was going to marry in a few days- broke the flush of her mind. She opened her eyes and watched him.

Fëanáro had a little smile on his face, his grey eyes was shining. He stretched his hand towards her with a gallant gesture. 

-I’m fine, thank you- she took a deep breath, and took his hand. He laughed, and took her into his arms. Nerdanel felt his hot lips kissing softly her red hair. -I was only resting a little. 

-I hope that I didn’t disturb you, _melinya_ \- even if she couldn’t see his face, by this position, she felt that he was smiling. -This is a so lovely day, lovely as you are right now- Nerdanel blushed. She was perfectly aware of the fact that she was almost wearing her working dress, and her hair were braided in a rushed bun, but Fëanáro didn’t care of it at all. He was always sincere, in his compliments. -I wanted only to go for a walk with you. I know that our families desire that we wait at least for those few days, but it was a pity, if we wasted this beautiful day, wasn’t it? - when they lose by the embrace, she saw him raise and eyebrow, and smirk.

She wasn't able to do anything but laughing. Oh, this could be a good idea. 

-A reasonable question- she said. - Yes, it wouldn’t be wise, if we wasted this day. And about our families, I fear that they are already used to your … disobedience. 

It was his turn to laugh, now.  
-Oh, yes- he gently took her hand. - Oh, dear ! I saw a so beautiful flock of swans at the river … This made me think of you, sweetheart. I’ll hope that you will find it inspiring for one of your beautiful sculptures.

Nerdanel smiled, and embraced him. He is always so captivating in his enthusiasm. -Oh, I hope so too … Well, show me this flock, my dear. 

They walked together, hands entwined, and Nerdanel felt her stomach fluctuate. Everything seemed always so simple, with him. Nerdanel felt as if she was capable to conquer the world, with Fëanáro by her side. 

 

Some days later, they married over the peak of Tùna’s hill. Everything is beautiful, and light, and Nerdanel is so incredibly glad, when she swore the formula that bounded her forever with Feanaro. His smile is so shining that it seemed to obscure even the light of Laurelin.  
Nerdanel always guarded her moment in her heart. Even if when she thought that she never could be happy (not after what happened to Fëanáro and to her beautiful children, not after having lost them so, not after the awareness that she would never see them, not until the end of Arda), the memory of that day was so lively in her mind that, for a moment, Nerdanel wasn’t able to do anything else but smile.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Melinya_ : Quenya, "my love". Very thanks to **Oshun** for the advice!
> 
> And, ah-ehm, everybody who knows about the _Laws and Costums Among the Eldar_ could notice that I've taken a licence for this fic ... But really, Feanor and Nerdanel and "sex only after the marriage" couldn't appear in the same phrase xD (And I sometimes use to ignore the LaCE when I write, this is one of those times)


End file.
